


Go On, Believe

by go_gentle, shoemaster



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hookers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 07:52:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3373643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/go_gentle/pseuds/go_gentle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoemaster/pseuds/shoemaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Relax, I'm not going to murder you," Getzy says, which really isn't relaxing at all.</p><p>(Hooker!Bobby email fic originally posted to LJ 2/19/2012)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go On, Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Moving some old not-quite fic from LJ to AO3 before LJ becomes completely unusable. Title from Cobra Starship because if it was good enough for hooker Getzy, it's good enough for hooker Bobby.
> 
> General dubiousness of all hookerfic applies, even in this least realistic version. Also some discussion of Bobby Ryan's real life past.

_shoemaster_ : Tell me a story! ( _ed note: if you don't send your friends emails like this all the time, you should try. It's great_ )

 _go_gentle_ : how do you feel about Bobby Ryan being a hooker? 

_shoemaster_ : I LOVE Bobby Ryan as a hooker

 _go_gentle_ : i just want Getzy being a dick to Bobby, and Bobby kind of liking it.  Which he knows is fucked up, but Getzy's a dick to him in a way that makes Bobby think that he's like that to his actual friends, as opposed to the way clients are usually dicks to him.

I’d like to apologize for the way that entire paragraph was a terrible double entrendre 

 _shoemaster_ Getzy's dickishness is an ingrained dickishness. Not "oh you're a lowly hooker" like dudes who pay for it are so superior to the guys that do it for money

 _go_gentle_ and Getzy's pretty easy, as Bobby's clients go. mostly he just likes to fuck Bobby's mouth.

 _shoemaster_ By the time Bobby's on his knees and opening Getzy's pants, he's usually hard already, so even that's easy for him. 

_go_gentle_ he likes to come on Bobby's face.  he asked the first time, but after that he just does it. 

He really gets off on it, and it's kind of hot for Bobby, not just annoying and messy.

Sometimes he's not sure why Getzy keeps coming by, of he shaved his head and was a little bit less of a jerk he could probably find someone who was into come on their face recreationally. 

 

After a few weeks, Getzy starts paying for an entire night when he comes by.  The first time it happens, Bobby gets a little tense, because he likes Getzy okay, but deviation from routine is something that he knows to watch out for.

"Relax, I'm not going to murder you," Getzy says, which really isn't relaxing at all.

But when they get to the hotel, after Bobby blows Getzy, Getzy just crawls into bed.  "You had better be here in the morning," he tells Bobby.

"It takes you that long to get it back up?" Bobby asks, even though he probably shouldn't insult his johns.

Getzy just grunts and shoves him a little.

 

Bobby's not tired, so he takes a really long shower. It's not the nicest hotel someone's taken him to, but it's still nicer than his “apartment”, and here he doesn't have to worry about the hot water running out.

When he finally sticks his head out of the bathroom, Getzy's turned off the lights and is sprawled out across one of the beds, asleep.  And snoring a little bit.

Bobby doesn't think he would mind sleeping next to Getzy but he takes the other bed anyway. It's a lot earlier than he usually goes to bed, but he must be more tired than he expected because he falls asleep easily.

He wakes up to daylight through the windows and the smell of coffee.  And Getzy sitting up in the other bed, drinking coffee and watching him.

"You could have woken me up," Bobby says.  Because Getzy could have.  He paid for that.

"You're cute when you're asleep," Getzy says.

Bobby blushes and hates that he's still even capable of that. Getzy just passes him the other cup of coffee. 

"Uh, thanks."

Getzy's still staring at him, so Bobby subtly checks his face for dry patches of drool.

When Bobby's done with his coffee, Getzy motions him over to the bed.  Bobby sits on the edge, not really knowing what Getzy wants. Getzy sighs and pushes at Bobby until he's lying down and Getzy is on top of him. 

Bobby can't blow him from this position, so he's not really sure what Getzy wants. Getzy stares at him expectantly for a moment then rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss Bobby.

Bobby doesn't know what to do except kiss back. He doesn't do a lot of kissing in his professional life, but even he can tell that this is not a great kiss.  Getzy's pushing hard, and his hands are tight on Bobby's shoulders.

But he's also rubbing up against Bobby's hip, so something about this must be working for him.

Bobby can't move much, so he puts his effort into making the kiss better and within a few minutes Getzy's chilled out there but he's rutting against Bobby's hip more insistently.

The kissing's kind of nice and Bobby wouldn't mind if Getzy got off this way, or if Bobby could just use his hand.

He tries to work a hand in between them, but Getzy makes a displeased noise and pins his wrist to the bed, just hard enough to hurt.  For a minute Bobby panics, but Getzy just keeps kissing him.  
The adrenaline or the kissing or something gets Bobby hard and he doesn't even notice until Getzy grinds down on his cock and startles a moan out of him.

Getzy pulls back for a second a smirks at him, like the smug motherfucker he is.

Bobby rolls his eyes and grabs Getzy with his free hand so he can pull him back down.  If he's kissing him, he doesn't have to see the look on his face.

Getzy makes a pleased noise at Bobby taking the initiative, so Bobby's not shy about letting his hips buck up against Getzy.

"Fuck, Bobby, you're hot for it, aren't you?" Getzy says a little desperately.

Bobby doesn't know what to say to that - he doesn't usually get it up for johns unless they want to get fucked, which is rare - so he just kisses Getzy again, hoping that will be enough.

Getzy finally works a hand in between them.  Bobby assumes he's going to get himself off, but instead he wraps his hand around Bobby.

"Come on, Bobby, do it," Getzy babbles into his neck.

It's been a really long time since someone's tried to get him off just to get him off and it's more intense than Bobby remembers. Especially with the way Getzy's staring down at him and just watching.

After he comes, he's too wrung out to do anything but lie there, even though he knows he should be doing something for Getzy.  But Getzy doesn't seem to have a problem taking care of himself. 

Getzy slumps on top of Bobby - incidental cuddling if any at all - and they're just a gross mess of bodily fluids and it's not that great. But Bobby doesn't mind at first, mostly because he can't think.

Eventually though, Getzy pushes himself up and makes a face. "I need a shower."

He tosses a wet washcloth at Bobby before closing the bathroom door behind him.  Bobby wipes at himself, but resigns himself to needing another shower to really get clean.  

Bobby's dozing lightly when Getzy gets out of the bathroom.  "I have to go to - I have to go," Getzy says.  "I'll leave you cab fare.  Room's yours til noon.  If you trash it, I'll make you pay me back."  His leer leaves no doubt as to how he thinks Bobby should pay him back, and Bobby blushes.

The cab fare is pretty much a giant tip - for what, Bobby's not sure - so he buys himself lunch after leaving the hotel and heads down to the beach to eat it.

He knows things with Getzy are kind of weird, but he's not violently weird, and he tips well, so Bobby can't really afford to avoid him 

It's a nice day, so Bobby just hangs out on the beach for a while after he's finished his sandwich.  He likes the sun, and it's also a bonus that he doesn't have to go back to his apartment quite yet.  It's a lot nicer than his last place, but it's still not exactly nice.

The motel thing becomes kind of a regular deal for them, but Bobby's never quite sure what Getzy wants while they're there. It's only occasionally his ass, and some times they don't even make it to a room and Bobby blows him in the back of his car like usual.

And sometimes he doesn't show up for two weeks at a time. 

Bobby doesn't worry or anything, except about the cash flow. He spends a lot of time wondering what Getzy's deal is.  He doesn't care of anything.  Just, he has a lot of time to kill sometimes, and so he wonders.

He's losing all his hair, sure, but shouldn't he be able to pick someone up who doesn't mind?

Bobby's pretty sure he's not married, or else the nights in the hotels would probably raise too many red flags.

Then one day he shows up with a broken nose and Bobby HAS to ask, "Jesus Christ what the fuck happened?

"Broken nose," Getzy says.

Bobby rolls his eyes.  "I'm not a moron, I can see that."

"Did someone jump you?" Bobby asks after Getzy doesn't add anything. It's not the nicest area and even Bobby pegged Getzy as a ripe target the first night.

"What? No, I can handle myself. It was an accident at work."

And now Bobby's really confused, because the kind of jobs that include getting hit in the face don't really overlap with the kind of jobs that have the kind of extra cash that Getzy's been spending on him.  But Getzy is looking shifty, for maybe the first time Bobby's known him, so Bobby doesn't press it any farther.

"Okay, well, let me know if I do something that hurts," Bobby says.  Not that he thinks Getzy will actually say something.

It ends up being Bobby who hurts first, accidentally whimpering when Getzy pins his wrist to the bed and puts pressure on a bruise from a few days ago.

"Someone hurt you," Getzy says, and he sounds angry.

"It's not a big deal," Bobby says.

"You've got bruises," Getzy says accusingly, like it's Bobby's fault.

"You leave bruises all the time," Bobby snaps, trying to pull away so he can turn and cover himself.

"Not on your rib cage," Getzy says, flipping on a light. "What the fuck did they do? Kick you?"

They did, but Bobby's not about to tell Getzy that.

"What, you're trying to lecture me about being more careful?  You, with the broken nose?" Bobby asks.

"No one was actually trying to hurt me when they broke my nose," Getzy says.

"So?" Bobby says. "Nothing's broken."

"Oh, so you saw a doctor to get them checked out?"

"I know when my fucking ribs are broken."

Getzy grinds his teeth. He didn't miss what Bobby tried to leave out - that they've been broken before.

Bobby gives in.  "Last time, it wasn't - it was before I was - it was before.  And I had x-rays and everything, then."

Getzy unclenches his jaw a little, but he still doesn't look very happy about things.

"Come on," Bobby says, with a little smile - fake, fake, fake - "Let me make you feel better."

Getzy rolls off of him entirely, not buying it for a second. "Goddammit, Bobby."

"I'm fine," Bobby says, which isn't true.  "We can do whatever."  Which is true.

Getzy sighs.  "I know you're lying, Bobby."

"So? Do you want this or not?"

"Just....stay here, okay? I'll be back in 20 minutes."

When Getzy comes back, he's carrying a bag from CVS.  He tosses a bottle of Advil to Bobby, then hands him an icepack.

"Did you get lube, too?" Bobby asks.

"Bobby."

"Why are you doing this?" 

"You're hurt."

"So what? You going to kiss it and make it better?"

"Someone should take care of you."

"I bet you say that to all the hookers."

"Bobby, don't."

"You picked me up on a street corner half an hour ago and now you want to pretend I'm not a hooker?"

"I know what you are!" Getzy yells. 

"Then why - why do you _care_?"

Bobby watches Getzy take a deep breath. "I cracked a rib once.  And it sucked, and that was with people looking after me.  Just let me do this, okay?  I will pay you to let me do this."

"Fine, whatever," Bobby says. He doesn't get why, but he doesn't want to push either. He likes Getzy well enough, and he needs the money.

Getzy glares a little, like he thinks Bobby should be falling over himself all grateful or whatever.

"What?" Bobby says.  "I agreed to do this, I didn't agree to pretend to be happy about it."

"Isn't that the point of a hooker?" Getzy grumbles, but he's smiling at the same time, so Bobby knows it was a joke. Probably.

"You're a terrible john, so I get to be a terrible hooker," Bobby says, reaching for the remote for the TV.

"Eh, I'd say you're pretty good," Getzy says, settling in next to Bobby.

Saying thanks to that seems weird, so he doesn't.

 

Bobby must fall asleep like that, because he wakes up to Getzy easing out from under him.

"Shh," Getzy says, "I set the alarm for you. Go back to sleep, Bobby."

"Mmm?" Bobby asks, reaching towards Getzy. 

"Sleep, Bobby," Getzy says again.

That sounds good to him, but before he rolls back over, he thinks maybe he feels lips brush his cheek. Probably he just imagined that, though. 

The alarm - set to play obnoxious top 40 - goes off at 11, and Bobby reluctantly crawls out of bed.  By the time he's done with his shower, he's almost entirely awake.  His ribs still hurt, so he goes looking for the bottle.

It's sitting on the dresser, next to a stack of cash - more than twice what Bobby usually gets.  There's a note scrawled on the back of the CVS receipt.  "Don't let anyone hurt you."

It's kind of sweet, but at the same time, kind of annoying.

Bobby doesn't _let_ anyone hurt him. It just happens sometimes. 

The extra cash does mean that he can be a little more picky over the next week, though.  He knows he should hang onto that much cash, save it up for when he really needs it, but it's so hard to do when he sees the guy who kicked the shit out of him and realizes that he'll be able to make rent AND eat, even if he passes on this guy. 

When Getzy comes back a few days later he strips Bobby on the hotel bed and checks him over for any new bruises. Bobby would complain, but it's kind of hot, and once he's satisfied, he fucks Bobby into the mattress. 

That's hot too.  Bobby feels like after he and Getzy had that moment of ...whatever, he can admit that to himself, that he likes Getzy, in a way that isn't just "one of my easiest clients". Like, he's pretty sure he could get into this even if Getzy wasn't paying him to be into this. 

They definitely cuddle afterward, too. Bobby's not sure how, he doesn't initiate it, and it doesn't seem like Getzy's initiating anything, but then all of a sudden they're spooning.

He shouldn't like it, but he does.

But he has no idea what to do about it. 

He thinks about pulling away, but when he moves, Getzy pulls him back firmly. And, well, he wouldn't want to upset Getzy, so maybe it's better if he just stays.

The thing is, he knows it's a bad idea to get attached to one client. Eventually Getzy will get sick of him, or realize he can't spend this much cash every week, or something, and it'll be better for Bobby if he's not attached when it happens.

But the thing is, Bobby can't imagine what he'd have to do to go without Getzy's weekly sum, so he can't cut Getzy off, even if that would be for the best.

Getzy surprises him again one night, showing up at the corner more dressed up than usual and saying, "We're going to dinner."

"Uh. Okay?" Bobby says. He assumes Getzy means like, Panera or something, but he heads towards a district with actual restaurants. "Half these places won't even let me in like this."

"There's a sport coat in the back," Getzy says. He glances over at Bobby. "It's LA, you'll fit in." 

Bobby glances down at his tight jeans doubtfully.  "Uh, if you say so."

"We're celebrating," Getzy says, as if that explains anything.

"What are we celebrating?" Bobby asks dutifully.

"My nose isn't broken anymore."

"Oh yeah?" Bobby asks. That's good news, even if he's not sure why it's worth a dinner out.

"Yeah, so now I can actually uh, get back to work. Finally."

"That's great," Bobby says. But he's not sure it is. He's spent some of his new found free time trying to think of a job that could give Getzy a broken nose - accidentally - and give him enough money to pay Bobby all the time. None of them are very legit. 

"It's so great," Getzy says.  "It's just, really good.  So I'm going to buy you dinner."

"I guess that means that I have to put out then," Bobby says.

Getzy laughs and Bobby can't help but feel a little proud.

The restaurant is nicer than anywhere Bobby's eaten in the past... In a while. But it's not intimidatingly fancy or anything, and he lets Getzy order them a bottle of red wine while he glances over the menu.

"I see how it is," Bobby says.  "You're going to get me drunk and take advantage of me."

"Why do I need to?" Getzy asks.  "You just said you were going to put out."

"The romance is gone," Bobby sighs. It's kind of weird, sitting in a restaurant flirting, but he likes it. He likes the way Getzy is looking at him, and the way their knees bump under the table.

He shouldn't be doing this, but he can't stop himself.

Besides, he discovers, the wine is really good.

It's been a while since he's had wine, and he's not sure he's ever had wine this good.  He drinks more of it than he probably should have, in between taking bites of his chicken pasta and flirting with Getzy.

He doesn't realize quite how much he's had until they stand to go and he starts to sway.

"Aw hell, you're hammered aren't you?" Getzy says as they get outside. 

"No," Bobby insists. He only tripped a little against the door jam.

"Yeah, you are," Getzy says.  He puts an arm around Bobby to steady him, and Bobby can't help leaning in to Getzy's side.  He's so warm, and solid. 

The valet takes his ticket and Bobby resents the lack of parking lots around for them to make out in. Instead he let's his hands wander a little and Getzy jumps.

"Jesus, Bobby!"

"What?" Bobby asks.

"What?" he shakes his head but he's grinning. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I bet I can think of some things," Bobby says.

Getzy laughs.  "Like you even could, when you're that drunk."

"Want me to prove it?"

"Not here," Getzy says, as his SUV pulls up in front of them.

Bobby reaches for him as soon as they're in the truck, but Getzy pushes his hands away.  

"Celebrating, remember? That means someplace that isn't my car."

Bobby sighs loudly and Getzy starts the car.

They pass by like, six motels and Bobby starts to get impatient. "Getzy."

"I told you, we're celebrating."

"By, what, driving through half of LA? Because that's a really terrible way to celebrate."

Getzy doesn't look at Bobby.  "We're going back to my place."

"Oh."

Bobby's not sure what he would say to that even if he was sober.

"We don't have to," Getzy says after a long stretch of silence. "We could go to a nice hotel."

"No, your place is fine," Bobby says. "Even if it means skipping out on room service."

It's a bad joke, but Getzy seems to relax a little.

Bobby's not sure what he's expecting from Getzy's place.  It's obvious that Getzy has money, but Bobby doesn’t know how much.

It's nice, is his first response as Getzy holds the door open for him.  It's clearly expensive, but it's not gaudy, and it looks comfortable.

He doesn't get an official tour, because Getzy just drags him upstairs, to the master bedroom. It's probably called a suite, judging by the size of the bathroom Bobby can see from the bed.

"You're not going to pass out on me, right?" Getzy asks straddling Bobby.

"It was a few glasses of wine," Bobby says.

"Yeah, a bottle's worth."

"I'll be fine," Bobby says.

He's starting to think that might have been overambitious, though.  Especially when Getzy starts kissing him and presses him down into the bed, which is really soft, and Getzy is warm on top of him.

Getzy's kissing his neck and Bobby leans up a little to help him take off his shirt, but after that, things get kind of hazy.

Until he wakes up early the next morning curled into Getzy's chest, there's a little bit of sunlight visible and oh god.

Bobby hopes Getzy isn't mad.

He must stiffen up or something, because Getzy opens his eyes.  Bobby's about to apologize when Getzy leans down to kiss him sleepily. 

Not that mad, apparently.  Bobby wants to keep it that way, so he makes out with Getzy while working his dick with his hand.

Apparently Getzy's stamina isn't that great before 7am, because he comes quickly and it isn't long before he's falling back to sleep. Which is fine, Bobby's calming down a bit, but he's still not in a state to get it up.

Until he wakes up later with his dick in Getzy's mouth. They haven't done this before.  Bobby hasn't even thought about this before.

"Getzy," he says, "you don't have to."

But he doesn't stop, which is good because Bobby doesn't actually want him to. He's good at it, Bobby realizes, and he seems pretty into it.

And Bobby hasn't been on this end of a blow job in so long, and Getzy's pretty good at using his fingers, too, so he doesn't last very long before Getzy has to pull off and jerk him through his orgasm.

Getzy's pretty smug as he wipes his hand off on Bobby's thigh. "Highlight of the month?"

"Mmm," Bobby shrugs. "Last week I went to a hockey game."

He means it as a joke, but Getzy freezes.  "Yeah?" he asks, and Bobby can feel all the ways he's faking the casual tone.

"Well, some asshole keeps giving me all this cash," Bobby says carefully, "and my favorite team was in town, so I bought myself a ticket."

"Who's your favorite team?"

"The Flyers," Bobby says. "And the Kings aren't so bad, and they have Richards now, so. It was only like, twenty bucks, too."

"Richards isn't that great," Getzy says, sounding a little annoyed.

"What, are you jealous that I went to a hockey game?" Bobby asks.

"You should come to my hockey games instead," Getzy says.

"You play hockey?" Bobby asks. "I didn't think there were that many rinks around here for rec leagues."

"I play at the Honda Center."

Bobby shakes his head.  "Sorry, I don't know where - wait, you're a Duck?"

Getzy glares at him.  Like Bobby was supposed to know that or something.

Another thought occurs to Bobby. "Are you crazy? You play in the NHL and you pick up hookers in LA?"

"I don't pick up hookers, I pick up you."

Bobby rolls his eyes.  "And I'm a hooker.  I thought we went through this already." 

"Are you going to write a tell all book about me?" 

"What? No, of course not."

"Then it's all fine."

Bobby shakes his head, but Getzy just squeezes his arm. "I mean it, you should come to some of my games."

"Get me a ticket and I will," Bobby says.

"Done," Getzy says immediately.  "I can't promise it'll be against the Flyers, though."

"I don't care, I just like hockey," Bobby admits.

It's so weird to think of Getzy as a hockey player. He stares at him a bit trying to picture him with all the pads and gear. "So are you any good?"

Getzy stares.  "I won an Olympic medal!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know that? I didn't even know you played."

"Maybe if you had been paying attention last night instead of being wasted," Getzy says.

"You're the one who practically dragged me into bed."

"You practically jumped me at the valet stand!"

"Do you know when the last time I had wine was?" Not that Bobby can remember, either.

 It's so strange to be lying next to Getzy, just arguing about dumb things. And hockey, because Getzy plays hockey. 

"Next time I'll know to cut you off," Getzy says.

"Next time?"

"Sure," Getzy says.  "It was fun."

Bobby's not sure what to say to that. It _was_ fun, but it's the kind of fun Getzy should be having with someone he doesn't pay.

Or pays a lot more and doesn't rent a room by the week. 

"If that's what you want," Bobby finally says.  "It's your money."

Getzy frowns.  "Yeah, it is.  And it was my money that paid for that wine, which you certainly seemed to like just fine."

"It was fun," Bobby says, trying to make the conversation less weird. He bets the other guys on the corner don't have to deal with this kind of stuff.

"So where do you want to sit for the game? In the box? In the stands?" 

"Uh, stands are fine," Bobby says.  Plus that way he won't have to talk to whoever else might be in the Ducks' box.

"Next Monday," Getzy says.  "Don't make other plans."

"Okay," Bobby says, and he can't help smiling. He gets to watch more hockey.

He gets to watch Getzy play hockey. That hasn't quite sunk in.

Getzy grins at him smugly before kissing him and that's the rest of the morning, before Getzy has to go to practice.

 

Getzy leaves Bobby in his house when he goes.  Bobby thinks that's a little weird, but Getzy tells him that he doesn't want to drive halfway across the city to drop him off just to have to go back to get him later. 

Bobby feels weird, alone in Getzy's big house by himself but he makes himself some breakfast and ends up parked in front of a giant TV. It takes five minutes just to figure out the remotes, but when he does, it's easy enough to find the hockey highlights - there's a whole channel of them.

And oh, apparently it's kind of a big deal that Ryan Getzlaf has been cleared to play again after taking a puck to the face. They show the video of that happening about eight times before Bobby switches over to TNT to watch Shawshank Redemption.

The movie is finishing up and Bobby's thinking about seeing if there's food for lunch when Getzy gets back from practice, carrying a bag of takeout.

"Hey," he says.  "How was your morning?"

Bobby shrugs.  "I saw the clip of your nose getting broken."

Getzy winces.  "Please don't tell me about it, the memory's bad enough."

"I'm glad it healed up," Bobby says. 

"Uh, yeah," Getzy says. "Would suck if it didn't."

"Have you been practicing with a visor?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah, but I'm gonna take it off once the docs clear it."

Bobby just stares. 

"What?" Getzy says defensively.  "I don't like them, they mess with my vision on the ice."

"And you give me shit for not taking care of myself," Bobby says. 

"Not wanting you to get your ribs broken by assholes isn't the same as not wearing a visor."

"I get jumped less often than you get sticks to the face."

Getzy frowns, "How often do you get jumped?"

"We're talking about you and how you could lose an eye." 

"I'm not going to lose an eye," Getzy says.  "Tell me about getting jumped."

"It's not that often," Bobby says.  "Just, everyone knows that hookers have cash."

Getzy frowns, probably thinking about the amount of cash he tends to give Bobby.

"I'm a big guy, there are plenty of easier targets than me," Bobby says. Of course, that means when he is jumped it's usually by more than one person. 

"Would it be better if - I could give you a ride home, instead of back to, you know," Getzy offers.

No way is Bobby going to let that happen.  "It's fine, really," he says.

Getzy reaches out and puts his hand on Bobby's neck.  "I don't want anyone to hurt you," he says

Bobby can't help the rush of warmth he feels at that. "Yeah, well I don't want you to get hurt, either."

He's probably beyond pretending that Getzy is just another john. He was beyond that months ago. Getzy tugs him in for a hug, and Bobby goes easily.  It's kind of weird, because Getzy's never really seemed all that into cuddling, but it's nice, Bobby has to admit. 

"We should eat before this gets cold," Getzy says pulling back a little awkwardly.

"Yeah, sure," Bobby says, even if he wishes they could just hug a little while longer. "What'd you get?"

 

They spend the afternoon making out on the couch and it's pretty awesome, Bobby has to admit, but he's not sure when Getzy's going to take him home. Or if he even wants to go home. But that's normal, because Getzy's place is nice. 

When it's dinnertime, Bobby assumes they're going to go out again, or get delivery or something.  But Getzy guides him into the kitchen when a hand at the small of his back and nudges him to sit down at the bar.

"You like salmon?" he asks, leaning into the fridge.

"Sure," Bobby says.  "Uh, do you want me to help or something?"

"You're the guest," Getzy says.  "You sit, I cook."

Bobby's pretty sure that's not quite right, but if Getzy wants him to sit, he'll sit.

Once the fish is in a pan, Getzy reaches under the counter and comes up with a bottle of red wine.  He pours a glass for Bobby and a glass for himself.  "Try to be a little more careful this time, eh?" he says as he passes Bobby the glass, and Bobby blushes.

Bobby just sits and watches and sips his wine. He just lets himself enjoy the time and tries not to worry about too much. He's pretty sure Getzy's not just fattening him up to kill him or anything.

Probably you don't hug those people. But sometimes Bobby wishes he had someone to talk about this with. 

Getzy seems to know what he wants from Bobby, but Bobby just wishes that he would tell Bobby what that is.  Bobby doesn't like not knowing what his clients want - in his experience, it ends badly. He's trying not to be weird through dinner - which is actually pretty good, who knew Getzy could cook? - but he's pretty sure that Getzy notices.

"Is everything cool?" Getzy asks after they dump the dishes in the dishwasher and head back out to the living room.

"Yeah, for sure," Bobby says quickly.

"You uh, you don't need to go back tonight, do you?"

"Uh, no," Bobby answers. He might lose some territory if he's gone from his spot too long, but he doesn't want to think about that now.

"No one's going to worry about you?"

Bobby's too busy laughing bitterly at the idea to realize that Getzy sounds a little nervous. "No."

"I don't get why someone like you doesn't have someone that worries about you," Getzy says.

"I just don't, okay?" Bobby says tightly.  "Just, drop it, okay?"

"Hey, at least we don't have to hurry out of bed tomorrow," Getzy says. Like that was the only reason he's asking.

Bobby goes along with it, not thinking about his mother's grave that he hasn't visited in months or whether his dad will be up for parole soon. "Yeah," he's trying to sound enthusiastic, but it sounds weak, even to him.

Getzy frowns, but doesn't say anything, just pulls Bobby closer til Bobby's almost in his lap.

Bobby expects him to want to make out or talk about Bobby's tragic past or something. Instead Getzy tells him about practice and okay, it's fucking weird how casually Getzy talks about Teemu Selanne but it's kind of cool, too. 

Eventually Getzy runs out of things to say about practice, and he turns the TV on.  He flicks through the channels a few times before turning to Bobby.  

"There's a Flyers game on, if you want to watch it, although I'm not sure why you want to."

"Sure," Bobby says. It sounds like fun, to watch hockey with Getzy.

There's a little burn of envy that has never died when it comes to watching hockey, he misses the feel of the skates and the pads. Especially when he sees JVR out there. But the Flyers are good and the Islanders are...not.

"Wait, when did Nabokov start playing for Long Island?" Bobby asks. 

Getzy explains the whole KHL and waivers situation to him before he gets distracted yelling at the TV like he was there on the bench.

He's especially vocal whenever Danny Briere's on the screen.

"What?" Getzy says defensively.  "That asshole speared me in the nuts last time we played them."

"Good thing you wear a jock, if he'd done it to your face you might've been hurt," Bobby says.

"I thought you'd show a little more concern for my junk," Getzy says, offended.

"I'll kiss it better, later," Bobby says

"Mmm," Getzy says non-committedly as he slings an arm over Bobby's shoulders.

Bobby doesn't mean to fall asleep - he wants to watch the game, since he doesn't get to watch hockey very often.  But he does.

He dreams about the night the feds busted in again, the way his mom screamed and his dad fought the cops dragging him away. Bobby's sixteen again, and not sure who to help or what to do and he feels helpless.

That doesn't really change when Getzy shakes him awake. "Bobby, Bobby, come on Bobby, wake up." 

"Sorry," he gasps out. "Sorry, sorry."

"It's okay," Getzy says.  "It's okay, Bobby, you're safe here."

Bobby goes to wipe his face and is surprised to find that his face is wet.

"I bet you don't want to talk about that," Getzy says.

He hands Bobby the beer and sits back down next to him. "If you do want to talk. I mean, later or whenever. You can tell me. 

"Yeah, uh, maybe," Bobby says.  "Thanks."

Getzy looks uncomfortable for a minute.  "Flyers won," he says finally.

Bobby smiles a little at that and Getzy relaxes. "Kings and Sharks should be starting soon."

It's an out and Bobby takes it easily.

Until they show Jack Johnson on the screen. Bobby hasn't seen him in years, and well, this doesn't really count, but he can't help tensing up a little. 

"You okay?" Getzy asks immediately.  "Do I need to hurt someone for you?"

"No, it's not like that," Bobby says.  "Just, I knew him. When we were kids."

Getzy stares at him for a second and Bobby knows it's weird. "Isn't he from some armpit state that isn't New Jersey?"

Bobby shoves him. But then he shrugs. "It was a long time ago."

"Did you want to catch up?" Getzy asks. "I mean, he's not the worst King in LA. I've got his number."

"And say what? Congratulations on going third over all? I've been turning tricks in West Hollywood?"

It's the first time he's mentioned his job in a while and it seems weird to do so. Not that he forgot, or thinks Getzy did. But it's still weird.

"Fine," Getzy says sharply.  "Don't call him. It doesn't matter to me."

Bobby winces.  Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.

They watch the rest of the game in silence for the most part, except when Getzy needs to say something disparaging about the refs or a player.

He never says anything about JJ.

When the game is over Bobby feels suddenly awkward.

 

He follows Getzy to bed, even though Getzy says he should stay up as late as he wants.  He's not sure what else to do with himself.  Anyway, he knows that Getzy likes a blow job before bed. 

But Getzy just changes in to a ratty old t-shirt and some boxers before crawling into bed and turning off the light. So Bobby's just standing there with the bathroom light showing him a Getzy who doesn't appear to be waiting for Bobby to blow him.

Bobby bites his lip, wondering if that means he's supposed to sleep on the couch, or find a guest bedroom, or something.  But he likes sleeping next to Getzy, so after a moment he crawls into bed too.  Getzy throws an arm over him and pulls him in, so whatever's going on, it can't be that big a deal.

He sleeps better than he did on the couch, which is good because he doesn't want to wake Getzy up. Or deal with them.

He wakes up in the morning to Getzy packing. "Uh. Are you going somewhere?"

"Phoenix," Getzy says. "It's just an overnight thing."

"Oh."

Bobby sits up, trying to wake himself up the rest of the way.  "Do you need me to...? I can get out of your way."

"If you want, I can give you a ride home on my way to the airport," Getzy says.  "But you can stay here, too."  He's very carefully not looking at Bobby as he says it.

"Oh. I."

Bobby doesn't know what to say. But then he realizes. "I have to go. My stuff- if I don't pay for the week they'll just clear out the room and pawn my stuff."

"Okay," Getzy says levelly.  "I'll drop you off, then."

 

Getzy doesn't say anything else until they're in the car and well on their way, and Bobby's not sure if that was the wrong answer.  Even if it was true.

"If you've got stuff you're worried about," he says finally.  "I mean. I've got lots of space, so. You know. And I don't mind."

"Um," Bobby says. He hears the words Getzy's saying, but doesn't understand them. He wishes Getzy had wanted sex last night, because then Bobby would maybe know what was going on.

"I can give you money for a cab back," Getzy says. "If you wanted to get your stuff and then go back to my place. I mean, I owe you, anyway."

"Uh," Bobby says.  

"You don't have to," Getzy says quickly.  "I mean, it's just an idea."

Bobby knows he shouldn't, knows that it's a bad idea that's going to make things more confused between the two of them, but after spending a few days at Getzy's house, the thought of going back to his shitty rented room kind of feels like the end of the world. 

"I mean, then you don't have to drive across town to come get me tomorrow, right?" he jokes

Getzy relaxes and doesn't even swear as they're cut off by a station wagon. "Yeah. And laundry's free at my place."

Getzy drops him off with a spare key and squeezes his knee. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, uh," Bobby says, climbing out of the car.  "Good luck with your game."

"You had better cheer for us," Getzy tells him.

"I will," Bobby says honestly. 

As Getzy drives off, Bobby looks around his block and heads inside. It seems darker than he remembers, but probably a bulb just burnt out. He nods to the desk guy and heads the creaky stairs.

He doesn't have a lot of stuff, so it's easy to pack it all into a duffel He makes sure the picture of him and his mom the day he was drafted in the O isn't bent or crooked and heads back downstairs to drop off his key.

It's not like he thinks he's never coming back here, but he's glad for some time away.

He's not sure what he's supposed to do with his stuff, so he just leaves the duffel in a corner of Getzy's room where it's out of the way.  

And then he figures that if he's going to be spending time in Getzy's house, he might as well see what some of the rooms beyond the bedroom look like.

There's a room that's just got a pool table and pinball machines and suddenly Bobby feels less bad about all the money Getzy's been giving him.

He considers playing, but he's kind of worried he'd break something. He finds the laundry and goes back to Getzy's room to get his clothes - they could all use a good washing.

Then he heads back to the kitchen to make himself some lunch and heads into the living room to watch TV.

He watches the highlights from the hockey games last night, but after a half hour they start to repeat, so he switches over to a cooking show.

After lunch and the end of his show, he moves his clothes to the dryer, then wonders what on earth Getzy expected him to do all day.

He ends up reading a book, for lack of anything else to do, but after a few hours that gets old.

He goes exploring again and finds Getzy's work out room. The stationary bike is pretty much the only piece of equipment amidst the rubber bands and medicine balls that he knows he probably won't hurt himself using.

He bikes for a while, but he can tell his endurance has gone way down.  It's annoying, and he knows that if he pushes it too hard he'll hurt tomorrow. 

He does some sit ups and push ups because he can and the ends up just sprawled out on the mat for ten minutes trying to will himself into the shower.

Bobby gets himself clean and ends up napping until just before the game. The Ducks don't look bad, and he really is rooting for them, but the Coyotes have them pretty well locked down. But Corey Perry gets a goal on the power play and the camera shows Getzy smiling and hugging him and it's weird for Bobby. He's glad, but still kind of thrown by seeing him on TV.

It makes it seem real in a way that even seeing his Olympic medal framed on the wall in the den didn't.

The Ducks get the go-ahead goal late in the third, off a neat play by their fourth line.  Bobby cheers for a moment before remembering that no one can hear him.

At least no one's around to make fun of him for it.

After the game ends and the Ducks win, Bobby reaches for the remote but before he can turn off the TV, Getzy's answering questions, his hair wet and missed as he stands around in his pads and Bobby realizes that he's kind of turned on by it.

And that's another bad sign for this thing that he and Getzy are doing.  It's one thing to be into the guy who's making out with you, but a totally different thing to be into the dude when he's just on the TV.

And it doesn't help when he goes to bed, in Getzy's bed, where it still smells like Getzy.

He considers jerking off, but can't bring himself to actually do it before he falls asleep.

 

When Bobby wakes up the next morning, he does jerk off in the shower but it's more of a "look, I don't need to think about him to get off" kind of thing. And he does think of Getzy a little

But really, that just makes sense, because Getzy's the only person he's been having sex with lately.

 

It's after lunch, and Bobby is thinking about trying the bike when the door open and Getzy comes in.

"Hey," Bobby says.  "Good trip?"

"We won," Getzy says, like that answers the question.

"I saw," Bobby says.

Getzy grins smug and proud and Bobby's so busy rolling his eyes he almost misses the way Getzy's reaching for him. He plants a long, wet kiss on Bobby that has all sorts of intent behind it before pulling away.

"Did you have lunch?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. I would've made extra but I didn't know when you were getting back-"

"It's fine," Getzy says.  "They fed us on the plane.  Just, it's nice out, I thought we should go out and do something."

"Yeah? What kind of something?"

"I don't know, see a movie?"

Bobby hasn't seen anything in the theaters in ages. "Sure."

He lets Getzy pick the movie, since he hasn't exactly been keeping up with film, and they end up at some big action movie with explosions.  Bobby didn't see the first one, but Getzy tells him it doesn't matter, and it turns out he's right.

Bobby expects there to be some serious making out during the movie - he can remember when he went on real dates and did that kind of thing - but Getzy just tangles one hand in the hair at the back of his neck and doesn't make a move.

It's affectionate and possessive but not really sexual, so Bobby just eats his popcorn and tries not to think too hard. The movie doesn't really require any brain cells, so Bobby focuses on it.

On the way out of the theater, they pass by a Mrs. Fields and a Gap. Bobby's considering a cookie when Getzy drags him towards the Gap. "You need some more shirts, or you're going to be doing laundry every two days." 

"You don't have to," Bobby says.

"I owe you money anyway," Getzy says.

Bobby would protest more, but Getzy seems to enjoy picking out clothes for him to try on and Bobby kind of likes trying on new new stuff. Even if he can't remember the last time he wore a shirt with buttons, probably his mother's funeral.

He frowns at his reflection as he tries it on, and is grateful that it isn't black. 

"Not good?" Getzy asks.

Bobby shrugs.  "Maybe dressier than I need."

Getzy watches him for a moment.  "Fine, I'll grab you something else to try. Stay there."

 

Bobby feels kind of stupid standing in front of a mirror watching Getzy move between tables and racks of clothing. He almost expects his mom to come up and cluck about how handsome he looks. And suddenly he fucking misses so much, more than he has in years and that just makes him feel guilty and -

"Bobby, Bobby, hey, hey -" Getzy says, grabbing his shoulders. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Bobby lies, blinking his way back into the store.

"I think we're done," Getzy says, scooping up the shirts and a pair of dark jeans.

He nudges Bobby towards the register and pays, then leads Bobby out of the store.  Just when Bobby's starting to feel a little over-protected, Getzy hands him one of the bags of shirts.

"Here, they're your clothes, so you get to carry them."

"What, too much for you?" Bobby teases back gratefully.

"We should get ice cream or something," Getzy says, ignoring Bobby's chirping.

"You sure about that? You were dragging late in the game last night, can you really afford to drag any extra pounds around?"

"A cone, jackass, not a gallon."

Bobby laughs and orders his with fudge when they get to the stand. 

Bobby's not trying to be obscene when he eats his ice cream, but it's really good, so he kind of can't help himself.  And Getzy keeps staring at his mouth while he's eating.

"What?" he finally asks.  "Something on my face?"

"Uh, yeah," Getzy says.  "Just, right there."  He reaches across to wipe a smear of fudge off the corner of Bobby's mouth.

Bobby's tongue darts out catches Getzy's thumb as he tries to clean up anything more.

"Fuck, Bobby." 

Bobby swallows hard.  "How about I finish this, and then you take me home?"

"Yeah," Getzy says.  "Yeah, let's do that."

It's almost a relief when Getzy throws the shopping bags into the living room and pushes Bobby up against the wall and kisses him, pinning him there with every inch and pound of advantage that he has. 

If Bobby wasn't - if he was playing - if he was in the gym regularly, he thinks he might be closer in size to Getzy, but he isn't.  And it's kind of nice to be pinned like this, to feel Getzy's weight all against him. 

It's not hard to get into it, especially after the few days break he's had from everything. Getzy won't let him do anything, just pins him against the wall and takes him to pieces. 

Bobby isn't quite sure how it happens, but Getzy get's both of their pants down enough that their dicks can rub against each other, panting heavily never giving each other an inch of space between them. 

After Bobby comes, he's suddenly exhausted.  He think he would probably collapse if not for Getzy still pressing him against the wall and working his own dick. He rests his head on Getzy's shoulder as Getzy finishes himself off, and Getzy rests his head on Bobby's for a minute while they pull themselves together.

"Couch?" Getzy asks.

"Mmph," Bobby agrees

Getzy pretty much drags him in the direction of the couch,then flops down and pulls Bobby down on top of him.  It's not actually that comfortable, but Getzy wraps his arms around Bobby and it feels nice.  And he's too wrung out to really move. 

This is starting to feel like... Something Bobby doesn't have a word for. And it scares the shit out of him. But not enough to get up off the couch or leave Getzy's house.

"Do you want to talk about what happened today?" Getzy asks, rubbing Bobby's back.

"Not really," Bobby says into Getzy's chest.  "Just, bad memories."

"No one's gonna hurt you," Getzy says fiercely.

Bobby shakes his head. "Not that kind of bad."

"Hey," Getzy says, leaning up just enough to kiss Bobby on the top of the head.  "Whatever it is, it's going to be okay."

"Yeah," Bobby says.  It's nice that at least one of them believes that.

"And hey, tomorrow you get to come to the rink and see us play in person," Getzy says. "You can meet the guys."

"You want me to do that?"

"You like hockey, right?"

"Yeah, no, I mean. Your teammates..."

"Do you not want to?" Getzy asks.

"It's fine," Bobby says.  "If you want me to meet them, I don't have a problem with it."

He should probably take a look at the roster just to make sure there are no surprises.

"It'll be fun. They're all a bunch of assholes -" Bobby snorts, because Getzy would know, "- it'll be fine."

"Okay," Bobby says.

"Plus I'll yell at them if they're mean to you," Getzy says, and that Bobby has no trouble believing.

"I can hold my own," he points out, even though he appreciates the offer.

He can't help being nervous on the way to the rink with Getzy the next afternoon. He's going to be hours early, but Getzy is his ride.

Mostly he's just glad that Getzy doesn't seem to be the type of guy to have 3 hours of exacting pre-game routines.

Getzy takes him in through the players' entrance.  Bobby can't help but be struck by how familiar it all smells.  Hockey's the same everywhere, he supposes.

A minute after arriving, some guy in a Duck polo grabs Getzy - "I'll be right back. I swear."

"Yeah, sure," Bobby says. But he's stuck standing around awkwardly as people who have a reason to be there bustle around him.

He doesn't intend to pick up a stick and start playing with a ball on the floor, but it's right there. And holy shit he's missed this.

Most of the people walking by don't pay any attention.  Bobby supposes it makes sense - they all do the same thing, and he bets any hockey-playing friends they bring by would too.  After the first few people who walk by and don't even seem to notice him, he stops listening for footsteps.

"You play," Getzy says from where he's leaning in the doorway opposite, and Bobby didn't even notice him come back.  Startled, Bobby drops the stick.

"I- no," he says.  "No, sorry."

"You were deking the hell out of that gear bag. You play."  
   
"Not anymore," Bobby says. It's a hair shy of snapping, because Getzy knows what he does. He doesn't play hockey.

Bobby's worried Getzy's going to push, going to make him tell about playing and why he had to quit, and Bobby just can't face that.  But he doesn't.

"Okay," Getzy says easily.  "So, Perrs screwed with my sticks, so I need to tape a bunch of new one, and you get to help."

"You probably deserved it," Bobby says.

"Tape on his visor before practice yesterday," Getzy confirms.

Bobby's slower than Getzy at first, he's out of practice and has to keep checking to make sure he's doing it the way Getzy wants it. "I think it says something about you if you want your knob this big."

"You like my big knob," Getzy shoots back easily.

Probably no one heard that but Bobby blushes anyway and goes back to taping the blades.

"You're good at this."

"It's not hard."

Someone behind Bobby snorts.  "He must like you," the guy says.  "The last time I lost a bet with him, he made me tape his sticks three time before he was satisfied."

"It's not my fault you're terrible at this, Perrs," Getzy says.

"And you're a fucking freak show."

"Fuck off," Getzy says easily. "Bobby this is Perrs. Perrs, Bobby."

"Uh, nice to meet you," Bobby says, fumbling with the tape for a second before offering his hand.

"I have an actual name, but he doesn't have enough brain cells to remember both. Corey Perry," he says, shaking Bobby's hand.

"Bobby...Stevenson," Bobby says. He hasn't used that name in years, but someone around here might remember a Bobby Ryan.

 "So you're the buddy staying with him?"

Bobby isn't surprised Getzy hasn't told him the truth. "Yeah."

"I'm impressed you haven't strangled him yet," Perry says.

Bobby shrugs.  "I guess he's got his upside."

Getzy coughs, and Bobby assumes that means he's not supposed to get any more specific with what Getzy's uses are. Or Getzy's uses for him.

"Apparently none of them are hooking you up with Ducks gear."

"He's a Flyers fan," Getzy chimes in.

"Why?"

"I like the Ducks," Bobby protests. 

Perry gives Getzy a look.

"Don't look at me like that," Getzy protests.  He pulls a hoodie out of his locker and tosses at Bobby.  "Don't even, Perrs, I washed it two days ago."

"There's an actual store here, where they sell real merch," Perry says helpfully.

Bobby unfolds the hoodie.  It's black, with "Anaheim Ducks" in big letters across the front, and then "Getzlaf 15" in a corner.  He hesitates a second before pulling it on. Getzy's got a smug look on his face while Bobby adjusts the extra material around his shoulders. Perry just rolls his eyes.

"We've got a team meeting, it'll look bad if the captain is late." 

"Fine, fine," Getzy says.  He hands Bobby his ticket and gives him directions up to the regular concourse, and then he's gone. 

Bobby goes right down to the glass because no one is around to stop him, and just stares at it for a while. It's the closest he's been to a fresh sheet in years, combined with the stick handling earlier, he misses hockey like he misses a limb.

After a while, he goes back out to the concourse to discover that the food stands have opened and people are starting to trickle in.  He buys a plate of nachos and eats them at a standing table where he can watch the second period of one of the day's earlier games. 

There are a bunch of people in Getzlaf jerseys walking around and Bobby feels a little possessive and proud every time he sees one.

When he returns to his seat the jumbotron is going, showing clips of guys on the team doing charity and answering questions. Bobby learns more about Getzy from those than he wants to admit. He'd just never thought to ask when his birthday is, or where he grew up.

Maybe because he's been trying to avoid reciprocal questions.

It's not too much longer before the players come out for warm-ups.  The drills they do look so familiar to Bobby from all the drills he used to do before games. And even though he's watched Getzy play on TV, but it's nothing like being in the same building and watching him skate.

The game is fun, he can hear the teams yelling to each other on the ice and it's fast and the crowd is sort of into it. 

When Getzy scores, Bobby's out of his seat yelling and cheering and he thinks maybe he sees Getzy look toward where Bobby's sitting.

The Ducks are up by one going into the second intermission, and Bobby's so keyed up he practically can't sit still. 

He gets a beer from the vendor walking around and jitters his way through the shoot the puck competition until the game starts up again. They really need an insurance goal because the Wild are pressing hard to tie it up and fuck, Bobby loves hockey. 

The Ducks don't get it, but the Wild don't get one either.  The last five minutes of the game are hard and fast, and when the buzzer sounds, Bobby pretty much loses his mind.

Getzy's announced as second star of the game, and Bobby's pretty sure he's going to lose his voice with the amount of cheering he's doing.

He high fives strangers in the crowd and can't stop smiling as everyone files out. He hangs out by the ice for a while, because e figures Getzy's going to be busy showering and talking to the media.

Someone's waiting for him at Getzy's order or something, when he gets down stairs though, and ushers him into some room that isn't full of people.

Getzy comes in a minute later.  He's still damp from his shower, and he's grinning more than Bobby's ever seen him before.  Bobby's pretty sure he's never been this attracted to Getzy. He grabs Getzy and kisses him hard and hot on the mouth because he can and he wants to. Getzy's hands are on him in a second, backing him up against a wall.

"I should bring you to all my games," he says with a smirk.

"Showoff," Bobby says, gasping as Getzy tugs at his pants.

"Yup," Getzy says.

"Are you seriously going to blow me in here with everyone out th -" Bobby doesn't get a chance to finish the question because the answer is obviously yes.

He slides his hands into Getzy's wet hair and just tries to hang on.

It's hot and sloppy, and over with quickly.  Bobby has to pull Getzy back up to kiss him again.  And to make him stop looking so smug. 

They should probably get outside before anyone realizes how long Getzy's been gone. And leaving Getzy hanging could be kind of fun.

But he wants to.

So he drops to his knees, and Getzy groans. "Yeah, Bobby, fuck. Your fucking mouth."

He runs his thumb across Bobby's lower lip, and Bobby just shivers.

"Come, Getzy, I want-"

It doesn't take Getzy long, either, which makes Bobby feel better about how quick he was. And Getzy's a little winded so, Bobby gets to feel smug.

"So should we be getting back out?"

"Yeah, uh, I'll introduce you to some of the guys," Getzy says.

He's still staring at Bobby's mouth, and Bobby resigns himself to having the entire team know what they just did.

He resolves not to be embarrassed. They're Getzy's friends, not his.

There's a handful of guys hanging out in the lounge, and Bobby learns a bunch of names that he's pretty sure he's going to forget immediately.

He tries not to think about what it means, the way Getzy pays attention each time he introduces himself as Bobby Stevenson.

He doesn't like using the name, but the idea of dealing with being recognized that kid who bailed on the OHL because his dad was finally arrested for beating the shit out of his mom is even more unpalatable.

"So uh, what's the plan?" Bobby asks. "Dinner? Club?"

"As much as Getzy probably wants to take you clubbing, some of us need to eat," Parros - his mustache and the bruise under his eye make him memorable - says.

"Dinner sounds good," Bobby says.  He just hopes they don't go somewhere too fancy. 

"You sure you're still hungry?" Perry asks. There's a definite smirk there, and Getzy smacks him for it.

"If there's something worth eating," Bobby asks, holding Perry's eye and laying it on thick.

Perry's eyes widen and there are a few "ohhh"s from the other guys. Getzy frowns and throws an arm over Bobby's shoulder, hauling him against his side. 

Bobby blushes a little at that, but if Getzy doesn't care that the guys know, then Bobby doesn't care.  It's not his place to care.

 

The restaurant they end up at is nice, but not fancy and seems to be used to half a hockey team rolling in all at once.

When they've all got beers and are waiting on their food, everyone starts giving each other shit fast and easy and Bobby'd forgotten what it was like to be on a _team_. He's not really a part of it, but it's still nice to be this close to it.

After the first beer, Bobby relaxes a little bit.  Which is why when Perry says something to Getzy, Bobby chirps right back at him.  He cringes as soon as the words out of his mouth - they're not his team - but Perry just laughs at him. 

He relaxes a little after that, and just has fun, even though sometimes he catches Getzy staring at him and it flusters him a little. 

At some point during dinner, Getzy's hand ends up on Bobby's knee. And then it starts climbing higher, and Bobby's pretty sure he's blushing again.

As they finish, the guys start discussing their after-dinner plans.  A group of them are planning to go out.

"You guys coming?" Parros asks.

Getzy looks to Bobby.  "Bobby?"

Bobby shrugs.  "If you want to."  It'd probably be fun, even if all he really wants to do is go home with Getzy.

"We'll take a rain check," Getzy says.

Bobby wants to hide his face a little when everyone laughs. "Bye."

"Later, losers," Perry says, slapping them both on the shoulder.

"How are we the losers?" Getzy asks, but the rest of the guys are already walking away. 

"Your teammates are nice," Bobby says as they get in Getzy's car.

Getzy snorts.  "No, they're assholes.  But they're good dudes."

"It was nice," Bobby says. Getzy's lucky to have so many friends.

They fuck around when they get home and it's different some how, but Bobby can't explain exactly why. Maybe because they both got off earlier. He'll try to figure it out in the morning.

 

When Bobby wakes up, Getzy's still asleep.  He thinks about getting up and taking a shower, but when he tries to wiggle out from Getzy's arm, Getzy mumbles something and pulls him back.  And Bobby supposes that's okay, lying there with Getzy half asleep. 

"I have practice today, but we should go skating after," Getzy says as they nurse coffee in the living room.

Bobby's a little stunned. "I- but. But you'll have just had practice."

"So? I'll make you drag me around the ice."

"I'm not even sure I still know how to skate," Bobby lies.

"You'll be fine," Getzy says.  "I'll come get you after practice."

"Um, okay," Bobby says.

He's not sure what he's supposed to do in between then and now. He's getting kind of bored, but not bored enough to complain.

"Is there anywhere around here within walking distance?" he asks before Getzy leaves.

"Not really, why?" Getzy asks.

"No reason," Bobby says.  "Just curious."

Getzy opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but then glances at the clock. "I gotta go. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Yeah, sure," Bobby says.

 

He spends some time on the bike, then watches TV for a while.  Daytime TV sucks. 

"Jesus, why are you watching this shit?" Getzy asks when he gets in.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Bobby sighs.

Getzy presses some buttons on the remote to bring up a menus. "Watch The Wire or something."

Oh. "Later," Bobby says. "We're going skating, yeah?"

Maybe he's been looking forward to it a little.

"I was going to eat first, but if you're in such a hurry..."

"No, we can eat," Bobby says.  Although he doesn't think he's going to be able to eat slowly.

Getzy must be able to tell Bobby's excited, because he picks at his food for a few minutes before Bobby kicks him in the shin. He just laughs and eats faster, which really is all Bobby wanted. 

 

Getzy takes Bobby to some place he knows that has open skate in the afternoon. He gets Bobby a pair of skates from the counter, and Bobby's hands are shaking so bad he can barely get them tied. 

"Need some help there, Bobby?"

"I'm fine, I got it," Bobby says, hoping his voice sounds normal.

Getting on the ice is like going home. He tests the cut of the blades first, and the quality of the sheet before trying to go any great distances.

He's not sure what Getzy would laugh at him more for: holding on to the boards or wiping out completely.

It's good, though.  He was worried that he would get on the ice and it would feel foreign, but it doesn't.  He can tell he doesn't have the power that he used to, but he remembers how this all goes.

"Looking good," Getzy says approvingly from where he's watching.

Bobby turns to face him and tries skating backwards - he only wobbles a little. Getzy's grinning at him and Bobby has to smile back. "I feel like I'm in peewee again." 

"You could get back into it," Getzy says.  "If you want.  I mean, you don't look too terrible."

"It's been six years!" Bobby protests.  "Of course I'm going to be a little terrible."

"You'd probably be a ringer on a rec team," Getzy says.

"I don't have any gear." He pawned it all to help pay his mom's bills, after it became clear he'd never be going to Owen Sound.

"So use some of mine, or we'll get you new stuff."

"There's a lot more to it than just skating," Bobby says doubtfully.

"I have a day off later this week," Getzy points out.  "How about we go in, take some gear, try some things out?"

"Uh, yeah, okay," Bobby agrees. He can't say no to hockey.

 

He spends most of his alone time over the next few days working out, trying to get himself back in some sort of shape to be able to sustain any sort of effort out there. He knows he won't be able to fix six years of time off in a few days, but he can at least try.

He's pretty sure that Getzy knows he's doing it, too, but Getzy doesn't say anything about it.

 

They head to the Honda Center late in the morning and Getzy waves to the guards and equipment guys they pass on their way into the locker room.

It's a little surreal, putting gear again, let alone doing it in an NHL locker room.

He doesn't know where Getzy got this gear, but it's close enough to his size.  He was worried he would have forgotten how to get dressed or something dumb like that, but his hands remember and pretty soon he's standing in front of the ice, stick in hand.

"What are you waiting for?" Getzy says.  "Go for it."

Bobby shoots him a glare before taking a deep breath and gathering the puck on his stick. He takes a second to get used to controlling it again before setting off down the ice towards the opposite goal.

He misses wide, but not by much.

"Again," Getzy says, passing him another puck.

Bobby's able to knock that one in and it feels awesome. They continue that way and Bobby makes them about half the time, with some rattling off posts or going high and wide.

"You've got some pretty silky mitts," Getzy says, "if this is you rusty "

Bobby shrugs.  "It's not like hitting an empty net is some high-end talent."

Getzy's got a look in his eye that Bobby knows to worry about.  "Wanna play some one-on-one?"

"You're going to have to take it easy on me," Bobby warns him.

"What's the fun in that?" Getzy asks, hip checking Bobby gently.

"Well I don't think your bosses would appreciate it if you got injured in a game of pick up with your- with me."

"Oh, you really think you can?" Getzy asks.

"Let's go," Bobby says, tossing a puck out towards center ice.

It gets really competitive really fast, and Bobby's not really surprised. He's not as good as Getzy, but he is good at getting in his way and he can tell it's pissing Getzy off. He gets lucky, managing to deke the puck around Getzy and dumping him on his ass before sprinting towards the goal.  He knocks the puck in and then throws himself into the glass.

Back at the blue line, Getzy is still on the ice, watching him and laughing.

"Fucking right!" Bobby says gleefully. "Fucking right!"

"Act like you've done it before, eh?" Getzy says.

Bobby skates towards him and stops with a snow shower, leaving Getzy sputtering.

"Bet you can't do it again," Getzy says.

"Doesn't matter," Bobby says.  "I did it once."

 

When they finish up, they head back to the locker rooms and strip off their gear.  Getzy shoves Bobby towards the showers, and, oh.

"What did you do about the fact that hockey gets you hot before you met me?" Bobby asks in mock protest.

"Hockey doesn't get me hot," Getzy protests.

Bobby raises an eye at the proof to the contrary.

"Okay, maybe sometimes."

 

Bobby throws his hockey socks at Getzy as they get dressed again, but he misses and it ends up landing at the feet of one of the equipment guys.

"Everyone else usually just uses the basket," he says.

"Sorry," Bobby says.

"Don't worry about him," Getzy says. 

The equipment guy throws the sock at Getzy's head and nails him.

Bobby laughs, and the guy turns back to him. "Have we met before? You look really familiar."

"I don't think so?" Bobby says politely.

"Man, I would have sworn I know you," the guy says.

Bobby shrugs, "Sorry, man."

"John Kingson," he says, offering his hand.

Kingson. Oh. Bobby thinks maybe he played with his brother at some point. "Bobby Stevenson."

Getzy's dressing quickly behind him. "You ready to go, Bobby?"

"Uh, no." He only has on his jeans at this point. "Nice to meet you, John."

Getzy glares at him all the rest of the while he's getting dressed, but he doesn't say anything until they're in the car.

"What is your problem?" Bobby demands.  "You can't even be polite to people?"

"I'm sure you're polite enough for us both."

Bobby has no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean or why Getzy's so pissed off. "Yeah, because someone has to make up for what a jackass you can be."

He shouldn't be saying this. He doesn't want to piss Getzy off so bad that Getzy'd kick him out. He can't go back to the street corner, even after just a week or two away. He could handle doing it when he didn't have any other options. But now...

"I'm a jackass? Well excuse me if -" Getzy cuts off and just glares at the road.

Fine. Bobby can do silent treatment, too. 

 

Bobby finally breaks over dinner.

"Look, I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry, okay?"  He picks at his takeout.  "I didn't mean to upset you or anything."

Getzy chews loudly for a minute before responding. "I just don't see why you have to be so _polite_ to a former....customer. Do you need to keep your clientele list still?"

"Clientele? You picked me up on a street corner," Bobby says. "And you think- him? Really?"

"He recognized you!"

"He thought he did, I've never seen him before in my life." That's probably true, Bobby doesn't know for sure.

"So you didn't fuck him," Getzy says.

"God, Getzy, I didn't, okay?" Bobby says. "Why do you even care? It's not like you don't know about me."

Getzy refuses to make eye contact.  "I don't like the thought of other people touching you."

"Oh." Bobby doesn't know what to say to that.

"You should come to the game tomorrow night," Getzy says, as if the past few hours didn't even happen. 

"Yeah, okay," Bobby says.  Because if Getzy is going to pretend that whole thing didn't happen, so is he.

Things are more or less back to normal for the rest of the evening, right up until Getzy pretty much drags Bobby to bed.

It's rougher than it's been since Bobby sort of moved in, and Getzy is leaving all sorts of bruises and hickeys. Marking him. Bobby shouldn't be into it, but he kind of is. Okay, maybe definitely.

He leaves a few of his own, pissed at Getzy for being such a dick, but mostly sticks to being on the receiving end as Getzy tries to fuck him through the mattress. 

After they come, Bobby has to just lie there, overwhelmed. He knows he's going to be sore tomorrow, and he doesn't care at all. 

"Just me," Getzy says. "No one else."

Bobby turns towards him and nods. 

"Good," Getzy says, kissing his temple. 

 

"Are there things you want?" Getzy asks the next morning over coffee.

"Uh, maybe eggs?" Bobby says, confused.

Getzy rolls his eyes.  "Things for you, I mean."

Bobby shrugs. "I have everything I need."

Getzy rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but what else?"

"I don't know," Bobby says. "Do you have books anywhere in here? I can only watch so much TV alone."

"You could go out."

"To where?" Bobby says. "There's nothing near by. Plus," he glances outside, "it's raining."

Getzy reaches into the drawer under the coffee maker. "So drive you loser." He tosses Bobby a set of keys. "You can drive, right?"

"Yeah, but. Aren't you worried I'm going to steal it or something?" The keys feel really heavy in his hand. 

"Please," Getzy says, "like you could steal a car."

"I could too," Bobby says.

"Sure," Getzy says.  "I gotta get to morning skate.  Have fun, don't hit anyone."

He kisses Bobby goodbye and Bobby's left kind of stunned staring at the door.

He finishes eating quickly and showers fast - he hopes the car is an automatic.

The thing is, he doesn't even know where he wants to go, but it feels so good knowing he can go that he has to get out of there right now. 

The car's got GPS, so he figures he won't be able to get himself lost.  So he just - drives.  He remembers how much he hated getting stuck in traffic when he was a teenager learning to drive, but now it doesn't seem to matter. 

 

He ends up out at the ocean, the rain has let up some but it's still not very crowded beyond the dedicated surfers. The waves are a darker gray than the sky, crashing against the shore and it's the best thing Bobby's ever seen. He feels _free_ for the first time since - ever, maybe.

He grabs some tacos from a near by stand and just hangs out watching the surfers battle the waves.

It takes him forever to get back, there's an accident or something tying up the freeway, but eventually he makes it back to Getzy's.

Getzy's just standing around in the kitchen when Bobby comes in from the garage. "Hey!"

"Hey," Bobby says back, dropping the keys on the counter and trailing his hand across Getzy's back as he heads to the fridge for a bottle of water.

"So, uh, where'd you get off to?"

"Just went out to the beach. Watched the people crazy enough to want to surf in this." 

Getzy snorts.  "They're nuts to be out in this."

"Probably," Bobby agrees.

"Here," Getzy says, handing him a ticket for the game.  "In case you don't want to be at the Honda Center four hours early again."

"Thanks," Bobby says. "I didn't mind, it was just..."

"Boring?" Getzy offers.

"A little," he admits. 

"Well, now you can show up on time," Getzy says.  "I'm going to go take a nap, but I'll see you before I leave?"

"Sure," Bobby says.

Getzy gives him a quick kiss on his way out of the kitchen.  The whole things feels...domestic.

He hits the bike for a while before hitting the shower. Getzy's still asleep and Bobby gets tired just looking at him, so he goes to lay down next to him, trying not to disturb him too much. Getzy stirs a little, but doesn't seem to actually wake up as he rolls closer to Bobby and throws an arm over him.

Really, really domestic. 

He must fall asleep, because he wakes up to the sound of Getzy's alarm.  Getzy groans, like he doesn't want to get up, but he untangles himself from Bobby and crawls out of bed.

"See you later, Bobby," he says, giving Bobby a quick kiss.

Bobby lays in bed a while, watching Getzy get dressed and listening to him leave before finally dragging himself out of bed.

The TV in the living room still has too many remotes, but Bobby's starting to figure it out a little, maybe. But it doesn't really matter, because he has to get going if he doesn't want to be stuck in traffic again and be late for the game.

He doesn't even really look at his ticket until he's in the parking lot at the arena, and oh. That explains the number of purple jerseys around. They're playing the Kings. 

Well, it's not like it really matters, Bobby's in the stands and even if he's pretty close to the ice, it's not like JJ is going to magically spot him in the crowd and recognize him.

Still, it makes him nervous and anxious, and the tightly played, physical game isn't helping him unwind. 

The Ducks are down by one at the end of the second, and Bobby's so nervous he feels like he's going to puke.  He can tell he's not the only one - the entire crowd is uncomfortably on edge. 

The third period is going by way too quickly, when Getzy gets high sticked by one of the Kings and fuck, Bobby thinks he's bleeding. Which is good for the team, but Bobby hopes he's not hurt too bad.

The King - oh - it's Johnson, skates towards the penalty box. He looks older, obviously, but it's still weird for Bobby.

The first half of the double minor goes by with pretty much nothing for the Ducks and the crowd is getting restless. 

Getzy's unit is back out on the ice. The shot on the jumbotron as he skates out shows that he's got butterfly bandages on the cut under his lip.  He wins the face off against Kopitar, knocking the puck back to Visnovsky, who blasts it past Quick, and the score is tied. 

Bobby loses his mind a little, yelling and screaming along with the crowd.

But then there's still six minutes left in the game, and it's a frantic mess as the game goes into overtime. 

The shoot out is the first that Bobby's ever seen live, and damn, it's stressful. 

He spends the entire time biting his lip, but Hiller comes up big for the Ducks in the last round and the Ducks win.  The crowd goes nuts, and Bobby does too, but he still can't seem to relax. 

He's still pretty jittery as he heads downstairs, waiting in the hallway for Getzy or someone to come out.

Bobby's really proud of himself for just leaning casually against the wall when Mike Richards walks by, even if it just amps him up some more. Getzy's finally making his way out of the locker room, followed by Perry and some of the other guys - too bad, Bobby could use a few minute alone with him - when someone says, "Bobby?"

He turns automatically and there's Jack Johnson. "Holy shit, Bobby Ryan! It is you. Jesus!"

Bobby finds himself wrapped up in a hug and Getzy's staring at him over Jack's shoulder. "Uh, hey, JJ."

"Where they hell did you come from? Where have you been? When you didn't go play for the O, I thought maybe I'd see you in college but -" Jack pulls back and slaps Bobby's shoulders.

"Um," Bobby says. He's not used to being at the center of a scene quite like this 

"No, uh," Bobby says.  "I had to quit, when, uh, my mom got sicker." 

"I'm sorry," Jack says.  "We really missed you at U18s."

"I didn't know you used to play with Jack," Getzy says, standing closer to Bobby than he really needs too. 

"National Team Development Program," Bobby says quietly.

"Oh, right, of course," Getzy says, like he just forgot or something.

"Is your dad still -" Jack begins.

"Yeah," Bobby says quickly. 

"We were going to go get dinner," Getzy says, cutting in.

"Oh yeah, for sure. But Bobby, let me get your number. We gotta catch up, man. My mom's gonna wanna call _your_ mom and -"

Bobby shakes his head. 

Jack's face falls.  "Oh, man, I didn't know.  Shit. I'm so sorry."  He pulls Bobby into another hug. 

"Me too," Bobby says honestly. He tries to ignore the sting in his eyes, just because there's finally someone else who knew her to miss her.

Jack pulls out his phone, and Bobby obediently rattles off the number of the cheap phone he has for emergencies.  He can always ignore Jack's calls later. 

"I gotta go man, but seriously, we're gonna catch up for real soon."

"Yeah, sure," Bobby says. Getzy's still staring at him, and so are half the Ducks.

Fortunately, they wait until Jack disappears down the hall.

"You said your name was Bobby Stevenson," Getzy says.

"It is," Bobby says. "It was? I'm not sure how legal 'Ryan' is."

"Wasn't Bobby Ryan that kid Owen Sound drafted but disappeared after his dad got busted -" Perry chimes in.

"Yes," Bobby grinds out. 

"...right," Perry says.  "Well, uh, I'll you guys around." He makes a quick exit, and Bobby can't blame him. 

Getzy's still staring at him, and Bobby just wishes he'd say something. 

The rest of the team files past them, and Bobby can feel them looking at him but he just wants Getzy to talk to him or touch him or just fucking blink.

"Um, did you want to go get some food?" Bobby asks, as the silence stretches out. 

"How about you tell me what just happened?" Getzy says. 

"What?" Bobby says.  "Nothing happened.  I already told you that I knew him."

"I feel like there were some details missing when you mentioned that."

Bobby glances around. "Do we have to do this here?" 

"Fine," Getzy says.  "I'll get takeout and meet you at home, but then you have to tell me the whole story this time." 

"Okay," Bobby says miserably.  At least it will be better than doing it all in the basement of the Honda Center.

On the drive back to Getzy's, he thinks about lying, or at least leaving some of the details out.  Except now that Getzy knows his name, he'll probably be able to double-check the details online. 

He kind of chugs a beer while waiting for Getzy to get home, and then opens another one.

Getzy got Mexican, and Bobby takes the enchiladas he's handed without a word as Getzy opens a beer for himself. "Anytime you want to start is fine."

Bobby swallows. "I'm not sure where to start."

"How about the beginning?"

"When I was ten... When I was ten my dad got really drunk and beat my mom - he beat her real bad."

He kind of goes onto autopilot, explaining the next six years of his life spent on the lam with his parents, playing hockey wherever he could and even getting ranked nationally.

"But then right after the OHL draft... The feds found us." 

"So your dad's...." 

"In prison? Yeah.  If it had just been the, you know, he might be out by now, but not with the six years being on the run too."

"Is that why you quit hockey?"

"Not exactly. My mom got sick." 

"Sick?"

"Cancer," Bobby says, his voice tight and controlled. "I didn't go to Owen Sound because of the trial and everything for my dad, and I didn't want to leave my mom alone, but I kept playing, thinking maybe I would go the college route. But when she got sick. I sold my gear to help pay the bills and when that ran out..." 

"I'm sorry," Getzy says. 

"Yeah, well," Bobby says.  "And then after she died, I was.  A little bit of a mess.  And my ID and stuff was all a mess because how long I had been using a different name, so I sort of ended up.  You know." 

"Fuck. Bobby..."

"Yeah," he says, pushing the rice around on his plate.

"I'm sorry," Getzy says again.

"It's not your fault."

"It still sucks." Getzy moves to sit next to Bobby and he barely even has to raise his arm before Bobby falls against him. 

Getzy brings his other arm up around Bobby.  "Hey, it's gonna be - fuck, I can't even say that, can I." 

"Still nice to hear."

"Bobby, it's gonna be okay," Getzy says. 

And fuck if Bobby doesn't believe him.

 

"I'm sorry," Getzy says as he packs. "This is really shitty timing."

"You didn't make the schedule," Bobby says, like he doesn't wish Getzy could just blow off this whole stupid road trip.

"It's only a week," Getzy says. "And give me your number, I'll call you and stuff."

Bobby laughs. "Okay, just - wait until I get more credit for it, before you go blowing up my phone."

"I'm not going to blow up your phone," Getzy protests, kissing Bobby for the nineteenth time since they got out of bed. 

The last thing Getzy does before leaving is hand Bobby a stack of bills.  Bobby protests, but Getzy is insistent. 

"You need to eat, don't you?" Getzy asks.

"I don't need this much," Bobby says.

"So get yourself something nice.  Or take yourself out to dinner and a movie.  I don't care, Bobby.  I have the money, and you deserve to have something good happen to you." 

"Getzy..." Bobby says. All the words he wants to say sound stupid even in his head, so he just kisses him quickly. "Kick ass out there, eh?"

"Always."

 

Getzy's house is starting to feel more like home these days, maybe because Bobby gets to spend a few days putzing around, grocery shopping and cleaning and just settling in.  He figures out the TV set up and finds some TV show about college kids and watches the entire first season over two days. Getzy would probably think it's dumb, so Bobby doesn't mention it when he calls. 

Bobby also doesn't mention how much he misses him. 

He's not really sure what to do with all the cash Getzy gave him.  He's sort of gotten out of the habit of wanting things, and most of the things he used to want he has at Getzy's. 

He realizes there's a wine shop next to the grocery store, though, and there's a nice guy working there who walks him through picking out a couple of bottles to try.  Maybe he'll open one and watch Getzy's game tonight.

It's fun watching the game, even by himself, especially now that he knows some of the guys on the team.  He still spends most of the game watching Getzy, or looking for him on the bench when he's not on the ice. He shoots off a few texts about the game before the Canucks start piling it on.

Then Bobby cringes and pours another glass of wine. 

By the middle of the third period, it's clear that the Ducks aren't going to win this one.  At least the wine is good, Bobby tells himself. 

It does mean he's a little tipsy when Getzy calls, though. 

"Heyyy," Bobby says. 

"Sorry you had to watch that," Getzy says.

"You were good! Except for the -" Bobby cuts himself off. Probably he doesn't want to hear about his blown defensive coverage or that offensive zone penalty.

"Yeah, I know," Getzy sighs. "So what'd you do today?"

Bobby gives him the quick run down. "And I bought some wine."

"How much is left?" 

"Lots!" Bobby says.  "I didn't drink that much." 

"Lightweight," Getzy says.

"Probably," Bobby agrees. "You should have been here to keep an eye on me." 

"Mmm," Getzy hums across the phone line. "But I like it when you're all loose limbed and happy."

The phone sex is kind of inevitable from there. Bobby's not sure if it counts as real phone sex, since he doesn't do a whole lot of the talking, but he jerks himself off and listens to Getzy do the same.

"Go to bed, Bobby, don't sleep on the couch." 

"I will," Bobby says.  "Not the same without you." 

"I miss you too, Bobby.  Just a couple of days, and we can do this for real." 

 

It's stupid, really, the way the day sneaks up on him.

Bobby's been so focused on the day after, when Getzy's coming home that he wasn't thinking about the fact that her birthday is coming up until he sees a game schedule on the screen on the NHL Network and it's right there staring him in the face.

He feels awful, what kind of a son is he, for forgetting his mom's birthday? He hasn't been out to see her grave in months, even now that he doesn't have to take three buses to get there. 

It's too late to go now, but he can go first thing tomorrow morning, before Getzy gets back. Hopefully he'll feel a little more settled and more like himself by the time Getzy is home. He pulls out his picture of her that night and leaves in on the bedside table.  Now that Getzy knows all his secrets, there's no point in hiding it anymore. 

He buys a bouquet of flowers on his way out to the cemetery.  He's not sure what they are, but they're brightly colored and he thinks she would have liked them.

It's overcast but not raining when he gets there, so he can spend some time, just standing there and talking to her. 

He tells her about Getzy and running into Jack and just wishes he could see her face again, or have her meet Getzy. "I just miss you a lot," Bobby says, dusting off her headstone and pulling a couple of stray pieces of grass that are obscuring her birthday.  "I'll be back soon, I promise."

He doesn't _cry_ or anything, but he kind of wants to, even as he leaves the cemetery.

Getzy's still not home when he gets back, and that's okay with Bobby. He needs some time to get himself back together. 

He spends some time cleaning up around the house.  It's not like he thinks that Getzy will care if there are dishes in the sink or anything, but it's nice to have a clean space, and it's good to take his mind of things for a while. 

He's just finishing up putting a load of laundry in when he hears the garage door open and close.  Getzy's back. 

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," Getzy says, dropping his bag by the door and wrapping his arms around Bobby's waist.

"Hey," Bobby says, leaning back against him. Somehow the weight of Getzy against him makes him feel a little lighter.

"Hey? All I get is a hey?"

Bobby laughs and presses the start button before turning and kissing Getzy. "Welcome home?" 

"Mmm," Getzy says, kissing back.  "I have a good idea of how we should celebrate." 

Bobby's not really in the mood, but he missed Getzy and it's not like it'd be bad. "How about not on the washing machine?"

"Probably a good idea," Getzy says, but then he just goes back to kissing Bobby.

"Getzy..." 

"Fine," Getzy says.  "Bedroom." 

It's not actually that far to the bedroom, but it takes them way longer than it should because Getzy keeps stopping to press Bobby up against walls and kiss him. When they finally get there, Getzy pushes Bobby back up against the bed and gives him a nudge, and Bobby obligingly sprawls back across the bed.

"God, Bobby," Getzy says, pulling off his shirt.  "All the things I want to do to you." 

Bobby bites back on a sigh. He'd kind of been hoping a blow job would be enough for Getzy for now. "Yeah, Getzy," he says as enthusiastically as he can as Getzy leans down over him to kiss him again. 

He likes making out with Getzy, and he likes the weight of Getzy on top of him, and he sternly reminds his dick of both those facts, and maybe it should start taking an interest in things at any time.  Because he can do this, if this is what Getzy wants. 

Getzy's rubbing against him pretty steadily - at least one of them is getting hard - and Bobby makes a noise he'd be making if he were as into it right now as Getzy is.

"Yeah, Bobby. Yeah," Getzy says, reaching down between them.

Bobby tries to twist away but he can't with Getzy so firmly on top of him so now it's obvious how soft he is.

"Bobby?" 

"It's fine," Bobby says.  "Keep going." 

Getzy lifts himself up enough that he can look Bobby in the eyes.  "Are you even into this at all, Bobby?" 

"Yeah," Bobby says, but his eyes slide away. "It's not a big deal. I don't need to be hard to blow you."

"Don't need - Bobby. Jesus, do you even hear yourself?"

"It's not a big deal," Bobby says again. He doesn't get why Getzy's so upset. "It's not like I haven't done it before." 

Getzy rolls off Bobby and flops down on his back next to him.  "Fuck, Bobby," he says.  "Most people just say 'maybe later' when they're not in the mood." 

"Yeah, but-" Bobby cuts himself off. He knows Getzy doesn't like being reminded that Bobby's a hooker, even if it's true. 

“No buts," Getzy says. "You don't do anything you don't want to."

"I don't mind," Bobby says.

"I don't want - I only want it if you want it. You aren't working anymore."

"I'm not?" 

"Jesus, Bobby," Getzy says, rubbing a hand across his eyes.  "Did you think I would fucking throw you out or something if you didn't want to fool around?" 

Bobby shrugs.  "Still better than a lot of things that have happened to me." 

"Fuck, Bobby. It's not- It's not like that anymore. I didn't bring you here to be my live in..."

Bobby doesn't make him say "whore" out loud. "So what? Am I your boyfriend or something?"

Getzy is still and quiet for a long minute. "If you want." 

"Can we just start this day over?" Bobby asks. 

"Sure," Getzy says.  He puts out an arm, and Bobby curls into him gratefully.  "How was your morning?"

"It's my mom's birthday." 

"Fuck, Bobby," Getzy wraps himself around him.

"Yeah. I went to go see her," he says. "Brought her flowers."

"I'm sure she liked it," Getzy says. Then he reaches over Bobby to the picture frame on the nightstand. "Is this her?" 

"Yeah," Bobby says.  "That's the day I got drafted by Owen Sound." 

"She looks so proud of you," Getzy says.

"She was," Bobby says. 

 

BLAH BLAH BOBBY GETS A JOB AND A CAT AND THEY HAVE A MORE HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP 

Bobby just gets lonely during Ducks road trips. And there's a stray cat that comes into Getzy's back yard, and Bobby is predisposed to take care of strays since, you know, that's basically what Getzy did for him

He spends like, two days just hanging out in the back yard doing nothing so the cat will get used to him. He likes having a project and that cat seems nice. Bobby doesn't think it's been out doors too long, since it's coat still looks pretty healthy and it doesn't look too hungry

Bobby goes out to buy some cat food, the good wet kind that he dumps into a bowl and leaves it at the other end of the yard, then sits with his laptop on the deck. The cat approaches the food suspiciously sniffing it and eyeing Bobby, but begins to eat. Bobby feels really smug. He does it again the next couple of days, and by the third day, the cat hops up onto his lap when Bobby isn't looking.

It's pretty obvious that this is a cat that's used to being around people when Bobby pets it gently and is rewarded with a huge purr. The cat rubs its head up against his hand and, well, after that, there's no way Bobby's going to let this cat run off again.

He makes sure she - and it is a she - is comfortable with him handling her before before he takes her inside. He doesn't want to push her or anything, but he doesn't have to, because he puts her down and opens the door and she streaks inside.

She makes herself at home on the couch, and Bobby takes a quick picture with his phone and sends it to Getzy. 'i think we've been adopted'. He hopes Getzy's not allergic or anything.

"Cat person?" Getzy sends back. It's not enthusiastic, but it's not shutting it down, either

"i like cats," Bobby says.

"This one have a name? And a litter box?"  
Oh, right. Bobby maybe should have thought that part through a little better, but he didn't think he was going to get her to stick around this fast.

But he doesn't want to leave her alone right away. But he needs to get her started off on the right foot as far as litter box training.

Taking her to Petsmart in a shoebox is probably not the safest way to transport her, but he's going to buy a carrier, too.

She's not very happy about that, but when he explains to the woman there that he needs a carrier right away, she laughs, like she's seen this before. "Stray?" she asks, and Bobby nods.

"Good for you," she says, petting the cat and pointing Bobby towards the carriers. And a litter box, and more food. 

There's a little machine where he can make her a tag, but he wants to have a name to put on it.

Maybe he'll let Getzy name her, so that Getzy feels like she's his too. 

He's happy to discover that she knows what to do with the box once he gets it all set up. "Housebroken and everything," he sends Getzy, so he won't worry. "Start thinking of names."

By the time Getzy gets back, the cat is hanging out with Bobby almost all the time. Bobby's not used to cats being this friendly, but he kind of likes it. He would get up to meet Getzy at the door, but the cat is sleeping on his chest and he doesn't want to disturb her. "Hey," he says, reaching over the couch to grab Getzy's hand. "Missed you."

Getzy's frowning a little bit, but Bobby's pretty sure that's because the cat is ruining his plans to jump Bobby. "Missed you too," he says. "Although I didn't miss you so much I needed to go get a pet."

"She found me," Bobby says. "Come say hi."

He pushes up a little and the cat opens a cranky eye at him, as Getzy sits down so Bobby can rest his head in Getzy's lap. "Cat, this is Getzy. He's going to name you." 

"I don't know if I agreed to that," Getzy says, but he's rubbing her head. 

"How was your trip?" Bobby asks.

Getzy shrugs.  "You saw the games," he says.  "Other than that, trip was good." 

Bobby tries not to wince, thinking of the games.

"You've got a few days off before the homestand starts, it'll be good."

"Yeah," Getzy shrugs.

Bobby has to lean up to kiss Getzy then. It's awkward, since Getzy's hunched over and Bobby's propping himself up on Getzy's thigh and there's a cat on his sternum, but Bobby missed him. 

Getzy tugs on Bobby, re-arranging him til they can kiss easily.  In the process, the cat jumps off Bobby's chest with an offended yowl. 

"How about we take this someplace with a door that closes?" Getzy suggests. 

 

They do, and Bobby really did miss Getzy, and is happy to show how much. But once they're done, he can't help pulling on his boxers and opening the door to the bedroom where the cat is mewling pitifully. He scoops her up and brings her back to bed.

Getzy just laughs at him.

"I think she has abandonment issues," Bobby explains. 

"Of course I get another stray with issues," Getzy says. 

"But mostly I'm over mine," Bobby points out. His therapist is probably going to have a field day with the cat thing though.

"We'll just have to make sure she's as happy as you," Getzy says.

"She still needs a name," Bobby reminds him. 

"I'll think of something," Getzy promises. 

"Nothing dumb," Bobby says.  "I know how hockey players work." 

"So what, Catsy's out?" Getzy asks.

Bobby laughs and Getzy tries to kiss him before he's done and it just devolves from there.

 

He comes home from therapy two days later and Getzy's sitting on the couch with Catsy - it fucking stuck, of course it did - and a kitten.

"I went in to get more cat food and they were having an adoption," Getzy explains. 

"At least this one's not a stray picked up off the street," Bobby says. 

"I hear they do better in pairs," Getzy says. 

"Yeah, I hear that," Bobby says. "You give this one a real name?"

"The people from the shelter called her Pumpkin," Getzy admits. It's not hard to see why. 

"It's not a bad name," Bobby agrees.  "Better than anything you'll come up with." 

"I didn't see you leaping on real names," Getzy points out. 

"It's a good name. Just like Catsy," Bobby says.

(and then by the time Getzy leaves for his next road trip his phone background is a shirtless Bobby with the cats curled up on his shoulders) 

 

(Perrs steals his phone on the road and is like, "wow, i didn't even know you knew how to be that sweet." 

And Getzy blushes, except he's Getzy so he's just a dick about it, because he's a little embarrassed because he hasn't shown Bobby.

Bobby was only half awake when he took the picture, so.) 

He hopes Bobby can teach Pumpkin to be an attack cat when Perry comes over. 

Bobby just laughs about it when Getzy's suggests it.  That's not great for Getzy's ego, so Bobby promises to make it up to him in other ways. 

 

and then Bobby gets a job?? doing...something 

Getzy keeps telling him that he doesn't have to, but he doesn't argue with Bobby too much when Bobby insists.  And then he comes home from practice three days later with news of a gym that's looking for a part-time front desk assistant. 

It's not a ton of hours, which is fine with Bobby, because he likes being home when Getzy is home, but he likes having a place to go when he's not. And it's fun, having coworkers and getting to know the regulars. 

He's not making a ton of money, either, but he likes being able to by cat food or a bottle of wine without having to pull out Getzy's credit card. 

He uses his first paycheck to make a fancy dinner for Getzy and they...celebrate. Bobby knows it's not that big of a deal, not when he spends half the Ducks games in a luxury box at the Honda Center, but he's really proud of himself.

And if he makes she the TVs are turned to Ducks games in the gym just as a kind of default when he's working. Well. Bobby likes hockey. 

It's also nice because he gets a free membership at the gym, and a lot of days he works out after work.  Getzy has a nice set up, of course, but working out with Getzy - well, it's not exactly a productive work out. 

 

(How long does it take his coworkers to figure out that he's got a vested interest in the Ducks? )

At first he tries to keep is subtle, but after a while he starts watching pretty obviously, and then even cheering a little, but it's probably the wincing when Getzy takes a bad hit that does him in. 

Jackie's on the desk with him and starts giving him looks.

"I used to play, I know that hurts," is all he says. 

Of course, that excuse works less well when he moves to morning shift and Getzy starts dropping by after his practice ends. 

There are no PDAs or anything, but it doesn't take long for Jackie to recognize him or figure out that he's not at the gym to work out. 

She corners Bobby one morning when it's slow, and Getzy's in Canada. 

"So when you kept turning the TVs to the Ducks games, that's why?" she asks.

"I really do like hockey," Bobby protests. 

"And hockey likes you. You're hitting that, right?"

Bobby blushes but doesn't say anything. He's got towels to fold. 

"I would," she continues.  "I mean, if I had the chance." 

"You're not -" Bobby begins, but he cuts himself off.

Jackie smirks. "You should tell him to shave his head."

Bobby rolls his eyes. "I know, right?" 

"Do it in his sleep if you have to," Jackie suggests. 

Bobby laughs.  "He'd be so pissed."

"It's for the public good," Jackie says. 

"I'd never get away with it," Bobby says. "The cats would wake him up."

"One big stripe's all you need, then he'd have to finish it himself or look really stupid. Though he doesn't seem to mind now."

Bobby laughs, even though he feels a little defensive. "It's not that bad."

"Uh huh. So, cats?" 

"Yeah, two of them," Bobby says.  He pulls out his phone to show her a picture. 

"Cute," Jackie says. "What are their names?" 

"Uh." Bobby hates this part. "Catsy and Pumpkin."

Jackie laughs at him again. "I'm very happy for the four of you."

"Thank you," Bobby says. She's making fun of him, but it's still nice to hear. 

"Even if you're a terrible cat-namer." 

"Getzy named them," Bobby points out. 

"Seriously?"

"Well, the shelter named Pumpkin, but he picked her."

"Stop looking so dopey, we need to take inventory of the locker keys." 

Bobby blushes and goes back to counting keys. 

Two days later, when Getzy's back in town and having morning practice, and picking him up after work, Bobby gives him a quick kiss on their way out the door.  He can hear Jackie laughing behind him. 

"What's so funny?" Getzy asks, glancing back through the glass doors.

"Us," Bobby says.

"She's never allowed to meet Perrs."

"Inflicting Perrs on the unprepared is a terrible thing to do," Bobby agrees. 

"Game tomorrow," Getzy says.  "Are you working?" 

"Opening," Bobby says. Which means he might be back before Getzy even goes to morning skate.

Getzy makes a face, and yeah, Bobby would rather stay in bed with Getzy all morning. "Will you be up for the game."

"Definitely."

"Good," Getzy comes.  "I like when you come to games." 

"That's because you like being able to get off after games," Bobby says.

"That's not the only reason!" Getzy protests. 

"Yeah, you also like showing off," Bobby says. Neither of these two perks for Getzy are real troubles for him.

"And showing you off," Getzy says. "Perry's never going to find himself a girl even half as hot as you."

"Oh I see how it is," Bobby says.  "You're only into me so you can show up Perrs." 

"I don't hear you complaining," Getzy says.


End file.
